Superstar
by pearl tarantism
Summary: In which a restless Ohana seeks comfort in an equally restless Minko, and the two of them are rather fulfilled by the end. Pretty OOC, Ohana/Minko lemon.


**_Supertar_** _by pearl tarantism_

Ohana shifted a little, and grasped a little tighter at Minko's shirt. The taller girl was still half-asleep, but, as she felt the arms around her tighten, Ohana could feel her slowly becoming more and more awake. Her monotonous voice was lethargic with drowsiness as it rung beside Ohana's ear, and the small blonde reveled in the effortlessness with which it made to comfort her.

"Why've you been having so many nightmares, balut? I haven't gotten a normal night's sleep in God knows how long now..."

Her words told one story, but her actions told another. Ohana pushed her frigid nose softly into Minko's neck, so that she might share in its warmth, and Minko's own nose had buried itself somewhere within her rabid locks of curly hair. There was a hand moving up and down her back in an effort to soothe her, too, and Ohana wondered if Minko would ever treat Tohru this way, or if he'd get some kind of special treatment, or if maybe–just maybe–

"How would I know, Minchi?"

Ohana sighed and pressed her eyelids together. It wasn't any use now, though; they were both wide awake.

"D'you wanna talk about it?"

Ohana chewed her lip. Did she?

"Nah. It's just silly."

"I won't ask again, balut."

"I know."

Ohana let her eyes flutter open, and she felt Minko shift as eyelashes caressed her skin. The waitress wondered when it had started to become so easy to talk to Minko without constantly fearing for her life. She sniffed a little, with the original intention of clearing her sinuses, but once she took in Minko's scent, she felt herself relax.

A couple of weeks ago, she had started having bad dreams. The subject matter variated from dream to dream–from being of things she truly feared, to things like evil clowns in monster trucks–and after a while, it became too much to bear alone. Ohana had promised that she'd learn to depend on others, and when it had come to this, she had flung herself at the opportunity rather than trying to evade it.

Climbing down into the bottom bunk had been intensely frightening at first. But when a trembling Ohana, dangling off the top of a ladder, had turned her gaze to a restless Minko, tracing letters in the air, the dark-haired girl had simply lifted up the sheets. Ohana thought, embarrassedly, that Minko must have heard her jolt into a loud and frenzied awakeness, but as soon as she was in her arms, it was hard to think about anything at all.

"Have you been having trouble sleeping, too?" Ohana wondered aloud. "Your sleeping patterns have been kind of awkward lately."

Minko huffed. "Balut."

Ohana took that as a yes.

Honestly, the dreams had stopped being bad for a while now. Ohana had just taken to sleeping with Minko because she could, and the more she did, the more she wanted to. The annoying thing about _that,_ though, was that the more she _wanted _to, the more she wondered _why_ she wanted to. She had started to wonder what exactly it was that she wanted, and the more she wondered, the clearer it became, and the clearer it became, the more she wanted to know for sure.

"Minchi?"

"Hn?"

Ohana lifted herself and propped her forearms over the pillow on either side on Minko's head. She took in the girl's soft, questioning expression, and her insides were flooded with a warmth they'd never felt before; she decided she'd make sure to wake Minko up at two in the morning more often if it meant she'd always look this cute.

_Time to fest it up._

Ohana ignored her pounding heart and kissed her. "Thank you," she said.

Ohana felt her face smile, and her heart break. _Why would you do that? What about Ko-chan? This is just stupid Ohana, you know that this is just–_

In a deft and simple movement, all of its pieces were swept back together. Ohana wondered why Minko's hands were on her cheeks, and why her lips were on her lips, but she didn't really need to; as she was beginning to realise, she'd already figured it out.

"Balut."

Mumbled, half-hearted insults were lost in a tangle of limbs and tongues, and pent-up feelings of countless sorts were drowned in a sea of passion. Minko had quickly reversed their positions, and Ohana felt lips on her neck, fingers at the bottom of her shirt, a leg somewhere inbetween hers. _I wonder if any of her fanboys ever thought she'd be so tentative,_ she thought, stifling a laugh.

Ohana took the initiative. Her hand found Minko's, trembling, and lead it into action. Calloused fingers drew letters and numbers all over her skin, and Ohana held her breath. She was taken by a shiver as Minko's tongue rolled down her neck, and when a palm had reached her breast, her hips thrust into those of the taller girl.

Minko, as Ohana soon began to find, was rhythmic. She was never too fast and never too slow, never too hard and never too soft; she nibbled gently at her collarbone, moved her leg softly against her, squeezed her chest at the perfect intervals. She was absolutely tantalising; Ohana found herself on the edge of sanity and firmly planted to the ground all at once.

"Minchi..."

Ohana's breath hitched. Her shirt fell past her unattended breast and Minko's knee pushed further into her. Her nipple was grasped–twisted, pinched, chewed, licked–and Ohana's core cried out for more.

"Minchi!"

Ohana was almost certain that Minko would have leaned up to smirk at her for this utterly helpless wail, but it seemed that the other girl was truly more intent on what she was doing than on anything else. By this time, Ohana's hands had ridden up Minko's shirt and were digging ruthlessly into the skin of her shoulder blades. With every back and forth of Minko's leg she seemed to hold on tighter.

Just when Ohana was on the verge of begging, Minko's tongue took the words from her lips. As they engaged in a passionate kiss, Minko's hand arrived at the hem of Ohana's pants, and snaked its way beneath them. Ohana gasped into Minko's mouth as she was cupped, and long fingers moved playfully about her entrance, teasing ruthlessly.

It felt like an eternity before Minko pressed her thumb against Ohana's clit, and the shorter girl let out a high moan. As two fingers gently eased their way into her, Ohana felt her last scrap of sanity leave the building.

"Minchi! Oh, Minchi!"

Ohana's hips fell into a rhythmic, ever-speeding back and forth in time with that of Minko's hand, and the world fell away. Minko's fingers pumped long and hard, and pinched her throbbing clit at just the intervals that were making Ohana _scream,_ and then–well–then she realised what had just happened.

Minko hugged her.

"Ohana..."

Minko called her by her name.

"You're a weirdo."

... And then the old Minko was back.

"But I think I kind of love you," she mumbled. "But I don't really know. What that really means, or anything."

Ohana smiled.

"You think... you could help me find out?"

"... Yeah."

If love was what she thought it was–if it was supposed to make you feel like a superstar–then she'd already found it, anyway.


End file.
